The Longest Layover
by Lizzy aka hbndgirl
Summary: Nancy Drew is the last person Callie Shaw wants to be stranded at an airport with, but being caught in a hostage situation is always a good way to change your perspective. Part 3 of the Chapters series.
1. An Unexpected Encounter

J.M.J.

 _A/N: Hello! You probably didn't expect me to start posting another story so soon. This is a story that is exploring a piece of Nancy's background that I had all planned out to talk about in the "Chapters" trilogy, but it didn't fit anywhere, so I thought I'd write a shorter story to explain it. That's what this - a short story to explore that, and to look at what a friendship between Callie and Nancy might look like. It's not necessarily in the same universe as my "Chapters" trilogy (although there's no reason why it couldn't be), so you don't need to worry if you didn't read that trilogy. Thank you for reading and thank you in advance for reviewing, favoriting, and/or following this story!_

Chapter I

An Unexpected Encounter

Callie Shaw checked her phone for what must have been the thousandth time to see if her boyfriend, Frank Hardy, had replied to her text yet. She knew that he was on a case right now and probably didn't have too many chances to check his phone. Besides, the clock on her lock screen showed that she had only sent the text four minutes ago. She sighed and slipped the phone back into her purse. She didn't hold it against him for not answering – she was just so bored right now.

The eighteen-year-old blonde was sitting in the airport in Earlington, Wisconsin. Earlier today, she had never even heard of Earlington before, and right now she was wishing it had stayed that way. She had been on her way to the University of Phoenix for a scholarship competition, but the early January weather had other plans. A fierce snowstorm had forced her plane to reroute to land at the small Earlington airport. As of now, the snowstorm wasn't showing any signs of letting up, and Callie was stranded there until it did.

Although the airport was small, several other planes had been forced to land there as well, and so the place was crowded. If Callie hadn't been so reserved, she would have had more than enough opportunities to make some new friends, but that wasn't happening. Instead, she was staying quietly by herself, practically bored out of her mind and praying that the storm would let up soon.

She settled back in her chair, leaning her head against the wall behind it. Clearly, she couldn't telepathically tell Frank to answer her text, and her best friend, Iola Morton, wasn't answering either. Callie would just have to try to find a way to entertain herself. It was too bad that she hadn't thought to bring her sketchpad and pencils or a book or anything. The only thing to do, it seemed, was to people watch.

Most people were sitting around, looking at their smartphones. There was a group of college-age girls chattering to each other, laughing at some inside joke. A young couple had found the most secluded corner they could and were sitting hand-in-hand. Callie noticed that the young man looked a lot like Frank.

"Callie Shaw? I didn't expect to run into you here."

Callie started at the unexpected voice. She hadn't seen the speaker approaching her until she was right next to her. It was too bad that she didn't. Now she hadn't even a few seconds to prepare for this conversation, which Callie's brain was already telling her was not going to be pleasant. The speaker was the last person Callie wanted to see – Nancy Drew.

For a few awkward seconds, Callie's tongue wouldn't cooperate well enough to articulate a response. Finally, she forced a smile and said, "Nancy. What brings you to Earlington?"

"I'm guessing the same thing as you," Nancy replied, either oblivious to Callie's awkwardness or choosing to ignore it. "My plane got grounded here. I figured I was close enough to home I might meet someone I knew from there, but I didn't think I'd run into anyone from back east."

Callie twisted a lock of blond hair around her finger, unsure how to answer. She was always confused by Nancy. Like Frank and his brother, Joe, Nancy was an amateur detective. She had known Frank and Joe for years and was very good friends with them. Sometimes – every time she came face-to-face with Nancy – Callie wondered if they were _too_ good friends. Nancy was very pretty, with strawberry-blond hair and a sparkling smile. She was also one of the nicest and friendliest people Callie had ever known. Looking at herself, Callie often wondered how Frank couldn't prefer Nancy over her.

"Do you mind if I sit down?" Nancy asked.

"Uh, sure, go ahead," Callie invited her.

Nancy took the seat next to her. "At least now we both have someone to talk to. This isn't exactly the most exciting airport I've ever seen. They've also only got that one little coffee shop, and the food there doesn't look too appetizing. I hope this storm lets up before dinnertime."

Callie glanced out the window. "It doesn't look like it will."

Nancy followed her gaze, and then looked down at the weather forecast on her phone. "You're right. There's a severe weather warning for this area into tomorrow morning. It could be a long night. Are you going to miss anything being stuck here?"

"No," Callie replied. "I'm headed to the University of Phoenix for a scholarship competition, but I came a few days early. I wanted to get a chance to visit the campus, but it looks like I get to be here instead."

"Well, I'm not sure whether it's a good thing or a bad thing you left early, then" Nancy said. "After all, if you hadn't, you wouldn't be stuck here now."  
"No kidding," Callie answered.

"I was on my way home," Nancy continued. "I just finished up a case in Maine. I thought about taking a detour to Bayport, seeing how Maine's a little closer to there than River Heights is, but Frank said he and Joe are out of town on a case."

Callie tried to keep her expression from changing. Of course, Nancy would want to visit Frank in Bayport and of course, she'd be talking to him. Frank and Nancy were always talking. At any rate, Frank certainly always seemed to know what Nancy was doing.

"How have you been doing, anyway?" Nancy asked, once again either not noticing or not acknowledging Callie's reticence.

"Just fine," Callie said noncommittally. "Thanks. How about you?"

Nancy grinned. "Just fine. How about Frank and Joe?"

Callie wrinkled her nose ever so slightly. Was this some kind of test? Hadn't Nancy just said that she had talked to Frank recently? "They're fine," was all the answer Callie gave.

"Frank said they were on a case, but he didn't say what it was about," Nancy said. "He's probably told you all about it."

"Not that much," Callie replied. It struck her that she didn't really talk about Frank's cases with him all that much at all. He'd be able to talk about them with Nancy. Maybe that was why – Callie shook her head. She knew Frank didn't like Nancy better than her. Didn't she?

Nancy let out a deep breath and fell silent. She had a thoughtful expression on her face, and Callie had the uncomfortable feeling that Nancy was sizing her up.

"Am I annoying you?" Nancy asked finally. "I can stop talking if you'd rather." She didn't sound the least bit offended. In fact, she sounded completely sincere in worrying that she was annoying Callie.

"No, no, of course not," Callie replied, forcing a smile. She cast about for a reason she could give for her unfriendliness. "I'm just annoyed about – the snow and being stuck here. It's not you. Really."

"Mmm-hmm." Nancy nodded, but it was obvious she was unconvinced. "I guess it is pretty boring around here." She changed the subject abruptly. "University of Phoenix, huh? I always thought you'd go to art school."

"That's what I'd love to do." Callie surprised herself by her lack of inhibition as she burst out excitedly, but then art was her passion. She surprised herself still further by continuing, "I applied to several. Even the Royal College of Art in the U.K. It's just so expensive, and my parents don't see how it's a practical enough degree to justify spending that kind of money."

Nancy nodded understandingly. "Having to be practical is the worst sometimes. Maybe you could get a scholarship to one of those instead." A thoughtful look came into her eyes.

"I applied, but no luck so far," Callie said.

"I've thought about going to art school," Nancy commented. "I took art lessons in school, and my art teacher tried to convince me all of high school to be an artist instead of a detective."

Nancy _would_ be good at art, too, Callie thought, just a trace of bitterness in her reflection. Was there anything Nancy wasn't good at? It wasn't fair that Callie, who was so ordinary, had to compete against someone as perfect as Nancy. She shook her head. That was ridiculous. She sounded like some kind of insecure, jealous loser.

"I didn't know you were interested in art, too," she said, trying to be friendlier. "I guess, honestly, I don't really know you all that much. Mostly just what Frank's told me about you."

"Which probably isn't any too flattering." Nancy chuckled.

Callie forced another smile, but it wasn't genuine. "Actually, it always very flattering."

A spark of understanding flashed into Nancy's mind. She blushed in humiliation. "Callie, I –"

Callie held up her hand to signal her to stop. "I know, Nancy. Don't –"

Right now, Callie wished something – anything – would interrupt this conversation before it got any more awkward. It was bad enough having to think to herself that she was being ridiculous and jealous – she didn't need Nancy realizing it, too. Or maybe Nancy should know about it. After all, if this was who Callie was, maybe she should stop trying to pretend anything different.

"Everyone get facedown on the floor. Now!"

The authoritative voice made the girls look up in surprise. Six or seven men were now standing in the middle of the room, each of them holding intimidating-looking automatic weapons. For a long moment, no one moved. Then, first by ones and twos and then everyone together, began to obey the order. Callie and Nancy exchanged a glance before they, too, slid from their chairs to the floor. As she lay facedown, Callie couldn't help but think that this was not what she had in mind when she wished the conversation would be interrupted.


	2. Danger and Distraction

J.M.J.

 _A/N: Thank you so much for reading and possibly following this story! Thank you especially to Cherylann Rivers, Jilsen, max2013, EvergreenDreamweaver, sm2003495, Ritu, and angelicalkiss for your reviews on the first chapter!_

Chapter II

Danger and Distraction

"Now here's what we're going to do," one of the gunmen was saying. "We're going to go around to you one by one and we want you to hand over your cell phones and all your other electronics, as well as anything that could be used as a weapon and any valuables. Some of us are going to be watching, so don't move a muscle unless we tell you to. And don't talk, either."

Callie had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach as she squeezed her eyes shut while she tried not to think about what could happen. She was just glad that these men hadn't begun shooting right away. They must want something that they needed to keep the people in the airport alive, or maybe they simply didn't want to kill anyone. She wished Frank was here, but at the same time she was glad he wasn't here. He'd try to do something to protect them all, and perhaps he'd just get himself hurt.

"Hey," Callie heard Nancy whisper in a tone that she could just barely hear. "Don't worry. It'll be okay."

Callie opened one eye just enough to look at Nancy and made a feeble attempt at a smile. She hoped Nancy was right, and it would be okay. Right now, she wasn't so sure.

One of the men snatched up Callie's purse, and another grabbed the small bag that Nancy was carrying. They didn't even bother to look through them. Then one of them ran his rough hand down Callie's sides and along her legs. She bit her lip, intensely uncomfortable at his touch. Fortunately, he was in a hurry and the ordeal only lasted a few seconds before he moved on to search Nancy. Then they turned their attention to the other people in the room.

Finally, they satisfied themselves that no one had any means of communication with the outside world or anything they might use to escape, and they allowed them to sit up. Then, while three of them kept a wary eye on everyone, the other three held a whispered consultation. Except for their indiscernible voices, the entire room was silent.

Nancy was sitting on the floor, as were most of the others, including Callie. She was watching her captors intensely, and Callie felt certain she was weighing her options. That worried Callie. After all, Nancy was so much like Frank that she might just decide it was her responsibility to try to stop these villains. But what could she do against six armed men? This could end in disaster.

The men must have decided that their prisoners would be easier to manage if they were split up. They began dividing them into small groups of ten to fifteen people, equally divided between men and women and with at least one or two children in each group. Then the groups were herded off to smaller rooms where they could be locked up. Nancy and Callie's group were locked in one of the women's restrooms.

As soon as the door had been locked behind them and the immediate danger of being shot was taken away, the room erupted into a confusion of voices as everyone began talking in high, frightened tones. There were two children in the room, a girl of about six and a boy of about three. They were clinging to an older woman whom Callie guessed to be their grandmother and crying. The woman herself looked little more consoled. In fact, the only one in the room who didn't look as if she had been thrown into a paroxysm of terror was Nancy. She was standing calmly, with her arms crossed and a thoughtful expression on her face.

Nancy's calm was the last straw for Callie. How could she be so composed at a time like this? Maybe that was what Frank saw in her. At that thought, any semblance of composure left in Callie snapped. Yet, even in this crisis situation, she had too much self-control to shout at Nancy directly, so her frustration came out in a string of half furious, half frantic questions: "What are these people doing? What do they want? Why is this happening? How did those guns here? Where's airport security? Why is this happening?"

Nancy laid a hand on Callie's shoulder. "I don't know. I do know this – we're going to get out of this. Don't worry. The first thing we need to do is calm down ourselves and then get these people calm."

"How can you expect me to calm down?" Callie demanded. This last request of Nancy's was too much. "I'm not like you, Nancy. I don't have things like this happen to me every other week. Normal people can't just stay calm when they might –" She let the sentence drop. Saying the word would make it all too real.

For a fraction of a second, Callie thought she saw a hurt expression in Nancy's eyes, but Nancy quickly hid it behind a slight smile. "I guess I have gotten into a ridiculous number of situations like this. This is the first time you have, then?"

Callie felt like she was about to cry. Nancy could probably tell, and that only made it all the more embarrassing. She wanted to hide her face from Nancy. Ordinarily, Callie would be the last person to sit down on the floor of a public restroom, but right now, she honestly didn't care. She put her back against the wall and slid down until she was sitting down. This was all just too much.

Then Nancy crouched down next to her, which sort of defeated the purpose. "We're going to be fine, Callie, but we're going to have to do a little work to make sure of it. Okay?"

"You don't mean trying to jump those guys out there?" Callie asked, certain that her horror was showing plainly on her face.

Nancy chuckled. "Hardly. Jumping your armed captors is not a great way to stay alive in a hostage situation. Actually, we need to do the opposite. We've got to cooperate with them and stay out of their way. I'm thinking they have something specific they want to accomplish, and if we leave them alone, they'll leave us alive."

"What do you think they're trying to accomplish?" Callie was far from convinced.

"I don't know," Nancy replied. "It doesn't really matter for the moment. Our first priority needs to be to calm everyone in here down. That way, we'll all be thinking clearly and nobody will do anything stupid."

"What could we really do in here, anyway?" Callie asked.

"True," Nancy admitted, looking around at the walls of their makeshift prison. "These guys seem to know what they're doing. Locking us up in here and everybody else in other places is going to keep us all out of their way. Making sure everybody is in a group with both men and women, as well as children, in it is going to throw us all even more off-balance. The gunmen probably think that everyone will feel like they need to protect somebody else in their group and so they won't do anything to attract any more danger than we're all in already. Of course, there might be a hothead or two who won't think of that and will try to be the hero anyway, so we need to make sure everyone realizes that the best thing is to just lay low. Okay?"

"Okay." Callie had to admit it made sense. It also helped, convincing herself that she could be one of the strong ones here and having something to work at. She wondered if that was part of Nancy's plan. She couldn't help ruefully smiling just a little bit as it sank in that she was simply assuming Nancy had a plan – Nancy was definitely the sort of person who would always have a plan. What if that was something Frank liked about her?

Callie set her jaw. She couldn't worry about that right now. Nancy was already talking to someone else, trying to soothe their fears. Looking around at all those terrified people, divided into little bunches of twos and threes while they chattered nervously or, in some cases, sobbed, she shrank back a little. What could she possibly say to any of them that would help? She herself was as frightened as any of them. Then her glance fell on the two kids. She didn't have to talk to them to calm them down – she just needed to get their minds off what was going on.

"Hey." She knelt down next to them as they clung to their grandmother. As for the grandmother, she gave Callie a look of gratitude, as if she had no idea what to do with the terrified children and appreciated any help that was offered. "My name's Callie. What are yours?"

The children stared at her for a moment, surprised at having a strange adult talk to them. They looked cautiously at their grandma.

"It's all right," the grandmother told them. She smiled faintly at Callie. "I'm Susan Arthur."

"I'm Ashley," the little girl finally said. The boy was shyly half-hiding behind Susan, and so Ashley added, "He's Hunter. He's my brother."

"It's nice to meet you all." Callie tried to smile more genuinely now, and she felt like it wasn't a total failure.

"Are we going to die?" Ashley spoke up suddenly.

"No, of course not," Callie told her immediately. She definitely needed a distraction for these kids. There wasn't much to use for that in a restroom. Then she noticed one of the soap dispensers next to the sink. "I was just wondering if you two wanted to blow some bubbles."

That seemed to get Hunter's attention. He wrinkled his nose and asked, "How?"

"With soap and water from the sink," Callie said. "Here, I'll show you."

The children, whose interest was piqued, followed Callie to the sink. She ran some water over her hands and then scrubbed soap over her palms and fingers. Then she put her hands together as if she was praying, opened them slightly but with the heels of her hands and the tips of her fingers still touching, and blew. A few small bubbles floated through the air.

"I want to try!" Hunter said eagerly, his shyness apparently fading.

Ashley, being older and a little more aware of what was happening, was a bit more resistant. In the end, though, she began to join in the fun, too. Even so, it wasn't long before they began to get bored again.

Callie dried her hands with a paper towel as she tried to think of something else to entertain them. She noticed that the towels were made of paper that was thin but sturdy and could be creased. That gave her the idea to try showing them how to do origami, a skill that Callie herself was far from proficient in. She did know how to make cranes, though, and so she crafted one for the children. That was even better than the bubbles. They demanded that she show them how to make cranes, too, and before long, all three were busily folding and twisting paper into origami cranes. The children seemed engrossed in the activity and temporarily forgot the terrible situation they were in. As Callie put the finishing touches on another crane, she wished she could do the same.


	3. Secrets

J.M.J.

 _A/N: Thank you for reading and for following and/or favoriting this story! Thank you especially to Cherylann Rivers, EvergreenDreamweaver, Highflyer, Ritu, max2013, Jilsen, and sm2003495 for your reviews on the second chapter!_

Chapter III

Secrets

It took about half an hour, but with time and Nancy and Callie's efforts, everyone was finally calmed down, at least enough to listen as Nancy talked to them. There were twelve people all total locked in here together – Nancy, Callie, Susan Arthur and her grandchildren, Ashley and Hunter, five men, and two other women. While Callie and Susan continued to try to entertain the children, Nancy continued to assure the other adults that their best option was to do nothing.

One of the men, Charlie Wilson, objected to this. He was in his late twenties and said that he was here with his wife, Dawna, who was being held with one of the other groups of hostages. "These criminals might be planning to kill us. I'm not going to just stand here and wait for that to happen. And I'm not going to wait around while they hold my wife somewhere."

"I know," Nancy told him, trying to speak soothingly. "It's tough to be in a situation like this. But the best way you can help your wife is to keep yourself safe."

"What would you know about any of this?" Charlie retorted. "You're just a kid."

Nancy took a small step back and looked away for a few seconds. Callie had looked up at Charlie's outburst, and she had a pretty good guess what Nancy must be thinking. After all, Callie knew how much Frank hated when people doubted him because of his age, even if he didn't complain about it nearly as much as Joe. Callie also knew that no matter how old Nancy might be, they could trust her to help them get out of this.

"Nancy's a detective," Callie spoke up. "She has lots of experience with this sort of thing."

"A detective?" Charlie looked incredulous.

"Nancy Drew," one of the women, Janice Murray, said. "I've heard of you. You're the amateur detective who's always making the news."

Nancy flushed with embarrassment. "Yeah, that's me."

Charlie threw up his hand in disgust. "I don't care if you're Sherlock Holmes. These animals have my wife. I'm not going to just sit here without doing anything to try to save her."

"What do you think you're going to do, anyhow?" another man, Jackson Burgess, asked. "Unless you've got some way to get out of here, there's not anything you can do."

There was no arguing with this sound reasoning. Charlie grumbled, but Jackson had a point – there wasn't anything any of them could do in here. This pretty well put any discussion to an end. Deciding unanimously that there was nothing else to talk about, they all fell silent.

Nancy leaned against one of the sinks with a sigh, obviously deep in thought about something. She reached up as if to play with her necklace, but then she realized that the gunmen had taken the necklace she had been wearing. Callie tried to remember what it looked like, but she hadn't taken particular notice. Then she shook her head. Now she was starting to sound like some kind of creepy stalker, she berated herself. It wasn't any of her business what Nancy's necklace had looked like. But at the same moment, Callie couldn't help but notice Nancy's hand tremble as she let it fall back to her side.

"Do you know how to make anything else?" Ashley asked suddenly.

Callie jumped out of her thoughts and glanced down at the two kids and the multitude of paper cranes that were beginning to literally cover the floor.

"Um, sorry. Cranes were the only thing I learned how to make," Callie told her. She glanced cautiously at Nancy. "Maybe you know how to make something else?"

Nancy was startled at having Callie suddenly speak to her. Apologetically, she shook her head. "Sorry. I wouldn't even know how to make a crane."

The kids were starting to get bored and restless again. Callie wracked her brain to think of something else that would entertain them, but she couldn't think of anything. Then to her great relief, one of the other hostages, Marty Doring, stepped in and began to tell them a story. At once, Callie felt a small burden of responsibility lifted from her shoulders, but at once fear rushed to take its place. Once again, she felt like a helpless victim. Why couldn't she be as fearless as Nancy?

The restroom was larger than might have been expected in such a small airport. All the hostages were huddled together close to the door. Nancy wandered away toward the other end of the room and leaned against the wall. Callie, who still didn't quite believe that Nancy didn't intend to do anything, followed her to see if she was thinking of a plan.

"You're pretty good with kids," Nancy commented. "I don't think I could have thought of anything to get their minds off what's happening."

Callie shrugged. "It's not that big of a deal. Honestly, it was distracting me just as much as them."

"Still, I don't know that I could have done it," Nancy said. "I'm not that good with kids."

"Yeah, right," Callie replied before she thought about it. At once, she realized that that was not the politest response she could have given. "I mean – It's just – Sorry."

Nancy smiled ruefully. "It's true. One time, I took my neighbor's kid to the circus, and the first thing he did was get away from me, run up to one of the elephants, and grab onto its trunk. That could have turned out a lot worse than it did."

Callie chuckled. "That's just how it goes with kids. It doesn't mean anything against you."

"Maybe not," Nancy conceded. She quickly changed the subject. "Um, Callie, right before we get – well, interrupted, there was something I wanted to tell you."

Callie tensed. She had hoped that, at the very least, being held hostage would get her out of that conversation. "Just forget it, Nancy. There's nothing to talk about, really."

"There isn't?" Nancy raised a skeptical eyebrow. "It sure didn't sound that way."

"I was just being silly," Callie said. For a wild moment, the thought crossed her mind to say exactly what she was thinking, and a few words escaped her before she thought better of it. "It's just – nothing."

"It's not nothing," Nancy replied, but then she evidently decided to take a different tack. "Look, whatever happens here, I'd like it if we could be friends, and I feel like there's a thing or two that needs to be cleared up if that's going to happen."

Callie sighed. "Does it really have to be? It might be better for both of us –"

"No, even if it was what you think," Nancy said, "we'd still both be better for us to know the truth. As it is, we're both going to be a lot happier once we get this sorted out."

"Okay," Callie agreed reluctantly.

"All right." Nancy thought for a moment how to begin. "Frank and Joe and me. I've known those guys so long, I don't even remember meeting them. I was three, and I only know that because Dad says I was three. The only other friends I've had that have been around that long are Bess and George. Of course, it was a little different, since Bess and George just live down the street from me and Frank and Joe live all the way in Bayport. Obviously, I saw a lot less of Frank and Joe, but still enough to get to be pretty good friends with them."

"That's nice and all, Nancy," Callie said, "but all I really want to know is – is about your friendship with Frank now."

"It's a little tough to explain without the background," Nancy replied. "What I'm trying to say is that growing up, Frank and Joe and I were all pals since before any of us could remember, and we're still really good friends, but that's all."

Callie had been watching Nancy closely as she said this for any sign that would indicate whether she was telling the truth or not. She noticed that Nancy did not quite look at her as she was talking. Although Callie was no detective, this raised a big red flag in her mind. She looked down at her own hands, clenching her jaw to keep from saying anything.

Nancy let out a long breath. "At least, that's what Frank must have told you. As far as he's concerned, it's absolutely true." She put her hand up to her forehead as if she had a headache. "You know, I've only ever told two other people about this. I'd always hoped it would stay that way."

"If you don't want –" Callie began. She didn't know that she wanted to hear whatever Nancy had to say, but at the same time, she knew she'd never stop wondering if Nancy stopped.

"No," Nancy interrupted her. "You need to know. It's silly, anyway. Frank's always been one of the coolest guys I know. He still is. Plus he solves mysteries and is really cute. It's not really surprising that he was my first crush. Well, actually, Joe from _Wishbone_ was my first crush, but that's beside the point. The point is that I had the biggest crush on Frank when we were about junior high age, and I figured I had a pretty good chance with him. After all, I was one of his best friends, and whenever he and Joe talked about the gang back in Bayport, the only girl they ever mentioned was Iola, and somehow I never thought she would be a rival. There was the problem of distance, since we lived half a country away from each other and only saw each other a couple of times a year. I figured time would take care of that. When I got older – fifteen was the age I fixated on, for whatever reason – I could go to see him more often. Then high school happened. It was freshman year – November 18, to be exact."

"Hey, that would have been –" Callie began speaking without even thinking about it. November 18 of her freshman year – which would have also been Nancy's freshman year – was the day Frank had taken her on their first date.

"I know," Nancy said. "I called the Hardy house to talk with Frank, but Joe was the one who answered. He told me Frank was out on a date with a new girl who had moved to Bayport over the summer. Then, in good younger brother fashion, he proceeded to inform me that Frank was already completely head over heels about you. I think I told Joe I wasn't feeling very well and had to hang up. That was certainly true. I had Dad and Hannah worried sick over me for more than a week. They were sure there was something wrong with me. I guess there was, honestly. I should have just told them, but I couldn't. So, instead, I tried to take care of everything myself. I decided that if you were the sort of girl Frank liked, then I'd just have to be like you. I was so jealous of you."

Callie was taken aback. Nancy Drew – the absolutely perfect girl detective with the perfect life and everything she wanted – was jealous of her, insignificant Callie Shaw? The very thought was shocking. How could someone like Nancy be jealous of anyone?

"I got Frank and Joe to tell me everything about you," Nancy continued. She wasn't looking at Callie as she spoke and had not noticed Callie's reaction. "It certainly wasn't hard to get Frank to talk about you. You were an artist, so I asked Dad for art lessons. You were reserved, so I tried to be reserved. I even tried to stop solving mysteries since Joe insisted that you had no interest in detective work. That's when Dad really started getting worried." A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "He sat down with me and made me tell him exactly what was going on. He gave me a lot of good advice. You know, I'd never be happy trying to be someone else and that sort of thing. There were only two things that really sank in – I was only fourteen, you have to remember. The first was that the world needs a Callie Shaw and it needs a Nancy Drew, not a Callie Shaw wannabe. The other was that I couldn't try to be someone else for anybody, not even Frank, because if I tried to be Callie for Frank sake, I'd only ever be a flawed replica, and of course, he wouldn't leave you for that, and also when a guy came along who would want me the way I am, he wouldn't be able to recognize me for what I really am.

"It didn't completely cure me right away, but it did get me started on the road to recovery. At any rate, I stopped pretending to be you, even if I didn't stop hoping Frank would change his mind. But slowly I started realizing how happy Frank was with you, and how unhappy he and I would be together. Everyone always says we're a lot alike, but we're really not. I accepted it, and Frank and I were still friends. I was pretty much recovered by the time I met Ned a couple of years later. From the beginning, I knew that there was no one quite like Ned, and I realized that you and Frank weren't the only ones who were lucky you had met when you did."

Callie shook her head, trying to process all of this. "Why are you telling me all this? I mean, I'm glad you did – I think – but –"

"I've only ever told Dad and Ned about this," Nancy replied. "Dad needed to know what was going on with me back then, and Ned needed to know what the deal was with Frank and me. But you need to know that, too."

"But why here and now?" Callie was still flustered.

Nancy opened her mouth and then closed it again. Finally, she said, "I wanted you to know in case anything happens to one or the other of us. These people who are holding us –"

"What?" Callie asked as Nancy paused, trying to find just the right words. "Do you know something about them?"

"They're Black Rose," Nancy replied.

"What's that?" Callie wrinkled her forehead in confusion.

Before Nancy could answer, the door suddenly opened and two of the gunmen came in. They began to order the hostages to line up along the wall, but they didn't get very far. All at once, Charlie Wilson, the impetuous young man who had been separated from his wife, tried to take them off-guard by jumping them.

"No! Don't!" Nancy shouted, impulsively taking a step forward.


	4. In Ten Minutes

J.M.J.

 _A/N: Thank you for reading, as well as following and/or favoriting this story! Thank you especially to Cherylann Rivers, Ritu, EvergreenDreamweaver, sm2003495, and max2013 for your reviews on chapter 3!_

Chapter IV

In Ten Minutes

Callie shivered as she tried to get herself completely out of sight underneath one of the desks. Her heart was hammering so hard that she thought the gunmen might hear. Even Nancy, who was crouching next to her, had sweat on her forehead. Ten minutes earlier, that would have surprised Callie much more, but ten minutes had changed everything.

In ten minutes, she had finally been assured that Frank and Nancy were nothing more than good friends. In ten minutes, she had realized that Nancy was just as human and flawed as she was, and in many of the same ways. In ten minutes, the girls had found they could be friends. And in ten minutes, the situation with the gunmen had gone from dangerous to critical.

When Charlie Wilson had tried to jump the gunmen, everything had happened too fast for Callie to take it in. She knew that a gun had gone off, there had been a lot of screaming (Callie had done some of it herself), and she had been shoved to the ground. Next thing she had known, Nancy had grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her out of the chaos. Somehow – Callie wasn't sure how – they had gotten away from the immediate supervision of the gunmen and taken refuge behind the information desk. And that had all happened in just ten minutes.

"Nancy," Callie whispered finally, "what are we doing? They'll find us."

Nancy nodded and held a finger to her lips. Her hand trembled a little as she did. Callie didn't understand what she was thinking. There was no place they could go that the gunmen wouldn't eventually find them, and surely escaping from them for the moment would only make them angrier when they found the girls. The only thing Callie did understand about Nancy's plan was the need to be quiet. The chaotic screaming and scuffling had stopped, and the entire building was silent. Even a whisper might be overheard.

For a long moment, the girls held perfectly still. Callie didn't even dare to breathe. Finally, Nancy got to her knees so that she could just barely peer over the desk, moving so slowly that she didn't make the slightest move. She remained motionless and watched whatever scene was taking place in the main part of the room, and then sank back down, moving as slowly as she had in raising herself up.

"They're on the other thide of the room," she whispered as quietly as was humanly possible. "We need the phone." She pointed at the telephone that was sitting on the desk.

Callie glanced at the phone and then looked back at Nancy, trying to make her expression say clearly, "Are you crazy?"

Nancy seemed to understand. "The cord," she clarified.

That really didn't explain things any better, but at least it meant that Nancy didn't intend to try to place a phone call when it was too dangerous to even talk aloud. After taking a moment or two to process the request, Callie realized that what Nancy wanted was for Callie to get the cord for her as Callie was closer to the phone. Biting her lip and inching along to try to keep from making a sound, she moved within arm's length of the phone. She was worried that the cord would be a little bit of a fight to detach, but it came away from the phone easily. Relieved, she brought it back to Nancy, wondering what she had in mind for the cord.

In the meantime, Nancy had crawled farther under the desk and was doing something with the computer cords. Callie watched her in fascination as she meticulously untangled the cords. Once she had them untangled, she detached as many of them as she could from the computer and the monitor. She laid these out carefully full-length and added the phone cord to it.

Then she pointed at the computer itself. "We need to move it," she mouthed.

Callie raised her eyebrows. The computer was an old-style tower, big and clunky enough that it would not be easy to move it silently. Nevertheless, she and Nancy endeavored to do so. As quietly as they could, they pushed the computer over against the wall so that the power cord was stretched out like a trip wire. That surprised Callie when the realization struck her. She hoped that Nancy wasn't thinking of trying anything like tripping the gunmen and tying them up with the other cords.

Whatever Nancy had in mind, her plan obviously wasn't complete yet. She began trying the drawers behind the desk. Most of them opened, and Nancy examined the contents carefully, but evidently none of them held what she was looking for. Then she came to a drawer that wouldn't open. She took two bobby pins out of her hair and bent them out of shape. Once she was satisfied, she began working at picking the lock.

Callie shook her head as she watched her. She didn't understand what point there could possibly be to any of this. As Nancy worked, the only thing Callie could do was pray that this would all be over soon. And she did that fervently.

A few seconds later, Nancy had the drawer unlocked. She quietly rummaged through it for a moment, and then triumphantly took out an iPhone. There was no sort of lock on it, and it Nancy was able to get right into it. She checked to make sure it was on silent, and then typed out a text to 911 that said, "Being held hostage Earlington Airport 6 armed men."

Both girls held their breaths as they waited for a reply. In a rural area like this, the text-to-911 program might not be set up. As she waited, Callie noticed that the text went out at exactly 4:19 p.m. Then a reply text came up, asking for more details. Nancy had done it – they were in contact with the authorities. They might get out of this after all.

"Watth," Nancy whispered, changed the "ch" sound at the end of "watch" to "th" so that she could say it more quietly.

Callie guessed what she meant right away and nodded. She raised herself up enough to see over the desk. The gunmen must have succeeded in locking up all their prisoners again, as none of the hostage were in sight. Callie wondered what had happened to Charlie as she watched the gunmen closely. They were huddled together, talking about something. Callie held perfectly still.

Then one of them looked up from the group and glanced directly at Callie. Instinctively, she ducked behind the desk again. There was a short exclamation from the man who had seen her and the sound of running feet.

It only took Nancy a fraction of a second to take in what had happened. She thrust the iPhone somewhere inside her coat and snatched up the loose end of the computer's power cord. "Play dumb," she whispered to Callie.

All at once, it hit Callie what Nancy had been doing with the cords. It was all a cover-up for her real purpose of getting to a cell phone so that she could text for help. The way it was, it would look like the girls had been trying to set up a trap for the gunmen and perhaps they wouldn't search the girls again and take the phone away. Being in contact with the hostages would be a huge help to the authorities in dealing with these criminals.

There was barely time to realize this before six men surrounded the girls and six gun barrels were pointed at them. It was a terrifying sight, and it was all Callie could do to keep from panicking as she raised both her hands. Nancy followed suit.

"How did you two get out here?" one of them demanded, lowering his gun a little.

Neither girl spoke. Callie's tongue was too dry to form any words, and although she her muscles were too frozen to even turn her head to look at Nancy, she guessed that the girl detective was remaining stubbornly silent.

"They must have gotten out when that guy jumped Three-Eighty-Two," another man said. "They must have slipped past in the confusion."

"So you thought you could escape," the first man, who seemed to be the leader, sneered at them. He nodded at the trip wire, which none of the men had fallen over. "And you thought you'd try to catch us yourselves. If you're so eager to get out of here sooner, there's a better way you can help us."

He ordered the girls to their feet, and then marched them to a set of chairs. Two of the others bound them securely to the chairs. The leader looked the girls over critically. After a moment, he pointed at Callie.

"That one will do," he said. "She looks more scared and she's prettier. She'll get their attention, if it comes to that. Four-Twelve, you stay here with them and bring her if I give you the signal." He gestured to his other four men. "Each of you go to an exit on a different side of the building. The cops are starting to show up now, and we don't want them getting in. I'll go talk to them."

As all but one of the gunmen hurried away, Nancy looked at Callie, her expression clearly meaning that they needed to get this information to the police outside right away. With the gunmen split up, it would be a perfect opportunity for the police to capture them. They hadn't taken the phone away, at least, but with the girls tied up and being watched, it still didn't do them much good.

The man watching them seemed nervous, Callie noticed now. He paced up and down, muttering to himself and looking at his watch every few seconds. After a minute or two, his muttering became more audible.

"Might as well untie her now," he was saying. "If we need her, we're going to need her fast."

He sliced through the bonds holding Callie and ordered her to her feet. As Callie stood up, she saw Nancy nod to her. Clearly, Nancy wanted her to do something now that she was no longer tied, but Callie was sure there was nothing she could do. In fact, her heart hammered and her head felt light at the very thought.

"Hey, you all right?" The gunman looked at Callie critically. "You're not going to faint or anything, are you?"

Faint. That gave Callie an idea, but she discarded it as soon as it came. That trick had been used too many times before. On the other hand, maybe it could work with a slightly different twist.

She allowed herself to teeter on her feet for a moment, and then sank back down into the chair next to Nancy. "I just need to sit down. And take off my coat."

As she struggled out of her coat, the gunman returned to his nervous pacing. As soon as his back was turned, Callie shot Nancy a look, trying her hardest to ask a specific question with her eyes. Nancy was already on the same page, and she bobbed her head toward the front right pocket of her coat.

Their captor turned around again, and at once, Callie slumped her shoulders again, doing her best to look ill. At the moment, it didn't take very much acting. The gunman paid no attention as he paced past again. Then he turned and paced away once more. At once, Callie made a dive for Nancy's pocket, pulled the phone out, and hid it underneath her own coat, which she placed on her lap. It took several bouts of rapid action for Callie to type out the message in between times when the guard was looking at her, but at last she managed it and pressed the "send" button. The text went out at 4:29 p.m. In another ten minutes, the tables had turned again.


	5. Rescue

J.M.J.

 _A/N: I know this is a day early, but I thought I'd post it today, anyway. Thank you to everyone who has been reading this story, especially those of you who have followed and/or favorited it! Thank you especially to Cherylann Rivers, sm2003495, max2013, and Ritu for your reviews on chapter 4!_

Chapter V

Rescue

Callie stared at the screen of the iPhone as long as she dared, but not answering text came through. What if the text she had sent hadn't gone through itself? Then, from somewhere outside, came the sound of a shot. Both Callie and Nancy – and the gunman guarding them – stiffened at the sound.

"Something's going wrong," the gunman muttered.

In his agitation, he must have forgotten that he had left Callie untied, for he dashed off, leaving the girls unsupervised.

"Quick!" Nancy said. "Get me untied."

It strained her fingers and fingernails, but in a few minutes, Callie had Nancy's bonds undone. The girls took refuge out of sight behind a row of chairs.

"There must be a better place to hide," Callie whispered, although not as quietly now that the gunmen were out of sight.

Nancy nodded. "But no time to get to it. We've got to stay out of sight."

The shots stopped as suddenly as they had started, but still the girls didn't move from their hiding place. Then they heard footsteps as someone came into the room. Callie clenched her hands together until they turned white. If these were the gunmen coming back, there was no way they wouldn't catch the girls yet again.

But it wasn't the gunmen. "Police! Come out with your hands up!" The voice was authoritative and gruff, but right now, it was one of the most beautiful things Callie had ever heard.

She started to stand up, but Nancy grabbed her arm to hold her back. "Put your hands up," she instructed her. "The police don't have any way of knowing who's a terrorist and who's a victim." Callie obeyed, and then Nancy called out, "We're some of the hostages. None of the terrorists are still in here."

"All right. Come out slowly," the officer replied.

With their hands still in the air, the girls did as the officer told them. A group of ten police officers were facing them, four of them aiming guns at them while the others kept a wary eye for any surprise attack.

"How many gunmen were there?" the officer who had addressed them before asked without lowering his weapon.

"Six," Nancy said promptly. "We're the ones who were texting you information about them."

The officer lowered his gun and nodded. "We've got all of them then. Where are the other hostages?"

"Locked up in different rooms," Nancy told him. "Restrooms, storage closets. I'm not sure where all they put them."

"Okay." The officer pointed to one of his men. "You two talk to Officer Hansen while we find the rest of the hostages."

As the officer who had been indicated holstered his gun and came forward to talk to the girls, Callie found her legs shaking so that she could barely stand up. "Can we at least sit down?" she asked.

"Of course," Hansen told her kindly. "Go ahead and take a minute. You've been through a lot."

That was certainly the truth, Callie thought as she dropped into one of the chairs. The girls just sat for a few minutes, and then they began to tell their story to Officer Hansen, who wrote down everything they said.

"Did you catch any of the terrorists alive?" Nancy asked after she had finished her story.

Hansen gave her a questioning look. "What makes you so sure they were terrorists?"

"They took over an airport and took everybody hostage," Nancy replied. "Sounds like terrorists to me."

"You've got a point," Hansen admitted. "We just try not to use the T-word if we can help it. And, of course, we don't know what they wanted."

"You didn't get any of them alive, did you?" Nancy asked.

"How did you know?" Hansen countered.

"They were Black Rose," Nancy replied. "You don't catch them alive."

"Black Rose?" Hansen looked completely confused. "What are you talking about?"

By this time, the other officers had located and released most of the other hostages. The airport was beginning to fill up with excited and relieved voices. Paramedics were called in for Charlie Wilson, who had been shot in his futile attempt to overpower the terrorists, but fortunately, the wound was superficial. Then, over the growing din, one of the officers announced that he had found the items the gunmen had taken from the hostages. It took all the officers' attention – including Hansen's – to get everyone lined up in an orderly manner to return their belongings to them. Because the terrorists were all dead, none of it would be held for evidence.

As the others were lining up, Callie turned to Nancy. "That's the second time you've mentioned Black Rose. What is it? And why wouldn't that officer have known about it?"

"Black Rose is kind of the Bigfoot of the intelligence community," Nancy replied. "No one knows for sure who they are or what they want. They're terrorists and they're responsible for several dozen terrorist activities in the last twenty years, at least so we think. They don't ever say what they want and none of them have ever been taken alive. We don't even know what they call themselves. All we know is that they always have a black rose tattooed under their left ear. That's how I recognized these guys."

"Why hasn't anyone heard of them?" Callie asked. "I've certainly never heard of them, and Officer Hansen sounded like he hadn't."

Nancy shrugged. "Like I said, they're Bigfoot. Everyone knows somebody who claims to have run into them, no one can say for sure that they've seen them, no one can get any good evidence that they've seen them, and most people believe it's a hoax. There have been a few journalists or other who have tried to spread awareness of them, but they've always had a convenient accident or inexplicably changed their minds before they could get very far."

"But you've encountered them?" Callie asked.

"Not directly – at least, not until today," Nancy said. "I've only heard rumors before this. That's really all I know."

It took a long time, but finally the girls were able to collect their belongings. Nancy found her purse and checked to make sure everything was still inside it. Then she scanned the other unclaimed articles carefully. After a minute or two, she pounced on the one thing she was still missing – a small locket. She opened it to make sure the picture was still inside, and Callie saw over her shoulder that it was a picture of Ned. Callie smiled a little to herself. She shouldn't have doubted Nancy or Frank.

Then Callie spotted her purse. Her phone was still inside, and she was surprised to see that it had a dozen missed calls and several times that many texts on it. She grinned just a little when she saw that every single one of them was from Frank. Immediately, she stepped to one side and called him back.

"Callie!" Frank said, answering the phone almost as soon as it went through. "Are you all right? I heard what was happening on the news and I knew that was the airport you were stranded in. Is everything okay? Are you safe?"

"Yes, yes. It's okay," Callie assured him. "We're all safe now. We're fine."

"I was so worried," Frank continued. "I wanted to come, but I couldn't get a flight with the snowstorm. I tried to get Jack to bring me, but he said he couldn't get through the storm."

"That's all right," Callie told him. "I wouldn't have wanted you to try it. The storm still hasn't let up. I was fine, though. Nancy was with me."

"Nancy Drew?" Frank asked. "She was there too?"

Callie glanced up at Nancy, who was standing nearby, looking at her own phone. "Yes, thank goodness. We wouldn't have made it out without her."

Nancy overheard and took a few steps closer. "Don't you believe it, Frank," she said loud enough for Frank to hear over the phone. "It's Callie that we wouldn't have made it without."

Callie grinned, feeling embarrassed and flattered. "You know, Nancy and I aren't a bad team when it comes to stopping terrorists."

 _A/N: Once again, thank you all for reading, following, and favoriting this story! Thank you especially to everyone who left reviews: angelicalkiss, Cherylann Rivers, EvergreenDreamweaver, Highflyer, Jilsen, max2013, Ritu, and sm2003495! You've all been super encouraging with this story and it's been a huge boost to my confidence as a writer, as well as encouraging me to continue writing. Speaking of continuing writing, I know I left a pretty big loose end with this one - what exactly is Black Rose? That question is going to get answered in the next story which I will be posting very soon, which will be longer and Frank and Joe (especially Joe) will be the main characters._

 _Until then, I'm grateful to you for your support, and I hope you have enjoyed this story!_

 _~hbndgirl_


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